Offhand Encounter
by Foresaken-Shadow
Summary: Jean’s been gone for quite a time, and Scott’s grown worried. What happens when he confronts her and she barks back at his questioning? T, ScottJean, Oneshot.


**Offhand Encounter**

Jean's been gone for quite a time, and Scott's grown worried. What happens when he confronts her and she barks back at his questioning? T, Scott/Jean, One-shot.

**Minor note: **Jean is slightly OOC in the beginning.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the X-men. (: I just like to write about them.

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"Jean-!" Scott called after her. She'd been heading towards her room anyways, and Scott had off-handedly caught her when she was returning for the night.

"Yes?" she questioned, in her perfect angelic voice as she looked over her shoulder with only one eye focused on his figure.

"Where were you?" he asked curiously, toying with the idea of drawing closer and just keeping his distance. Lately Jean had hit somewhat of an anti-male streak, and was spending an awful lot of time with Ororo. He'd hardly seen her in the past week when he was so used to seeing her every damn day of his life.

One of her eyebrows arched. For a moment she thought she was being accused, however she reluctantly said, "Out with Ororo. Why?"

He ran a hand through his hair, something he did when he was nervous or at a loss for words. "I was worried…no one exactly knew where you were," he replied with a lowered tone.

She flashed a fakely-surprised grin. "Oh! So Mr. Scott-I-Can-Make-It-On-My-Own-Summers was worrying about little ol' me," she threw at him, turning around and putting her hands on her hips. "I haven't forgotten about what you did, Scott. If you think I'm about to fall to my knees and content to your every whim, you can forget it."

"Jean—"

"Don't you 'Jean' me," she barked. It was more than obvious she was having a rather rebellious day.

"It's only your name," he chuckled in response, taking the dare to stride closer to her. She continued to give him her half-hearted glare while backing up as he drew towards her. Finally she hit the door behind her, her door, and her hand flew to the door knob as Scott only stopped mere inches before her body. She probably looked similar to a trapped animal; her mind contemplating the fight/flight options, her hand gripping the doorknob, and her chest rising and falling rather rapidly.

"Where exactly did you go?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow back at her as her expression had softened.

Instantly she jumped back into the defensive position, and she used her free hand to poke at his chest while stating, "Why do I have to tell you?"

He took her hand and she looked to him in slight alarm. He murmured, "You don't…you can let me assume," he smirked. She tried and failed to whip her wrist from his grasp. Then the fingers curled to a fist, but what good did that do when one of the physically strongest men was holding on with a death grip?

She sighed and bit her lip. Weighing the situation both ways, Jean hesitantly looked up to the red glasses that seemed to sparkle almost roguishly. A shock went through her body at that, and the breath was caught in her throat. She then sighed, "We went to a bar."

"Oh and what…you were two 22 year old girls out at night?" he scoffed.

"Hey-" she jabbed at his chest again, seeing that he'd released her hand, "-just because you turned 23 a number of months before we will doesn't mean you're above us." He held his hands up in defense.

"I'm just worried for you, that's all," he stated.

"Mr. Play-by-the-rules," she stated bluntly.

"Somebody has to," he smirked. However he noticed her hand slipping off the doorknob, and then flinging to it again, gripping it vehemently. His eyes, hidden by the darkness of the crimson lenses, traced her figure and he raised an eyebrow as he whispered, "Why use your hand for something your mind can do?"

A slight color rose to her face as she all of a sudden realized just how close they were, and she also grew extremely self-conscious. Her hand willingly released the golden knob, and the hand twittered by her side. Both their gazes dropped, and then a devious voice crossed her mind, saying something along the lines of, "Make a move."

Then, almost as if the voice was expected, both mutants embraced, her arms around his neck and his around her waist. The aura around them instantly turned to that of zealousy, and was only helped by their fervent kisses. His hands trailed upwards to the small of her back, and she arched upwards in response while gasping after the jarring sensation the touch sent through her spine. Consequently, the door flew inward on its own, with just a slight push from Jean's telekinesis. Her eyes flashed impishly as she back-strode into the room and closed the door just as she had opened it, with her mind.

"Are you spending the night, Mr. Summers?" she breathed, and the lock of the door clicked into the dry air. "Of course you are," she whispered, his lips meeting hers again.

"So much for playing by the rules," he murmured when they broke to take in air. At that point, Jean was sitting fully on the bed with her legs folded to the side, and he had one knee on the bed and the other skidded against the floor. She suddenly gave him a nearly malevolent smirk, and her leg pulled around his waist and she pulled him down along with her own self. His fingers entangled within her hair, and she still held onto his neck, drawing him closer.

But something told them to break apart, probably their better conscious speaking. Scott pulled away with gasping breath and he gave the slightest shake of his head. Jean's eyes wandered uneasily though the room, and an ear-splitting noise scraped through her skull, causing her to cry out in pain as she clasped her ears.

"Jean…?" Scott yelped. He slipped from her loosening grasp and then knelt beside her on the covers, rather than over her as he tried to console her.

Her eyelids were jammed together rather forcibly as she winced unbearably. "My head…" she whimpered. She inched closer to him and clawed at his leg as she propped her head on his knee. The screaming came into her head and rattled her brain again, and tears streamed from her eyes as she clamped at her hair again. Scott knew what she was going through, it had happened more than once over the course of his stay at the mansion. She'd have serious migraine-type symptoms, but it was far worse than a migraine. No Jean would go into basically a mental shock; a pain coming and going in waves through her skull. The Professor had said it was most likely due to evolution of her mutation, and he didn't doubt that it would occur several times over her lifespan. After the first time the Professor had said just to try to keep her in the world of reality, rather than having her come to the infirmary. So Scott had stood beside her, and was running his hand over her head, her shoulders, and down to her waist.

Every so often she'd tense up and claw into his leg again, however he just grit his teeth and let the pain come; Jean was going through something most of them would ever know. However when she relaxed again, he would run his fingertips over her forehead. After a few minutes of the tensing-relaxing situation, she would shudder, and Scott laid his arm over her shoulders.

What triggered the mental-seizures? They didn't exactly know. She seemed to react when hit with a great amount of emotion at one time, as been the case tonight. It also seemed that exhaustion and stress played a part in it as well.

He sighed and let his eyes fall closed as he continued to stroke her figure, giving her a physical comfort to fall back on when the pain subsided, even if it was just temporary. He would be getting a rather restless night of sleep, but what had he expected when entering the room in the first place?


End file.
